Fear For Me (For Me #2)(45)

She had to ask, “Did he leave us another message?”

Greg glanced up at her.

“Go ahead,” she ordered, keeping her voice calm and quiet. There was no room for emotion at a scene like this. If she felt too much, if she empathized with the victim, she’d be lost. “We don’t have time to wait for you to get back to your lab. If another victim is out there…”

His gloved fingers rose to Helen’s neck. He pressed lightly on the skin, making the wound gape open even more.

I can see the paper.

He pulled it out, slowly, carefully.

Kyle edged closer to her. He wasn’t as good at compartmentalizing as she was, but he didn’t have to be. Control was all she knew.

Crime scenes pissed him off, and she knew he hated to see a victim’s pain. It reminded Kyle of his own past too much.

The paper got stuck in Helen’s throat.

Kyle swore.

Greg hesitated, then grabbed for the tweezers in his kit. A few moments later, the paper slid free. Greg unfolded it, and when he read the note, she saw him swallow.

“What does it say?” Kyle demanded.

Greg glanced up at them. His gaze darted to Kyle, then to Cadence. “‘Guilty.’”





CHAPTER EIGHT




Anthony stood less than two feet from Lauren. Her arm was being stitched up—a long, slow process because that freak Walker had carved into her so deeply.

Lauren didn’t make a sound as the doctor worked on her. Lauren actually hadn’t spoken at all since she’d opened her eyes. The blue of her gaze seemed dulled, missing the normal sparkle. Too much pain. Too much fear.

A bandage was on her cheek. The doctor had said the wound wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. Her shoulder had been reset—popped back into the joint in a fast, brutal move that had made him swear.

Even as she’d continued to keep silent.

He wanted to take all of her pain away.

Anthony’s hands clenched into fists.

“I want you to stay here overnight,” the doctor said. She was a woman in her early fifties with dark hair and light-cream skin. “You have a concussion, and we need to monitor you for—”

Lauren shook her head. “I can’t stay here.” There was fear in her voice, a tension that pulled at him. He wouldn’t have Lauren afraid. “I hate being in hospitals. They remind me too much—I have to get out.”

“Ms. Chandler”—the doctor’s voice firmed but Anthony could see the compassion in her eyes—“you need someone to watch you. I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation. With a concussion, you—”

Lauren’s gaze rose and finally she looked at Anthony. “Will you watch me?”

That soft question almost broke him. Always. “Yes.” He hadn’t been able to let her out of his sight since the cabin. Matt had taken over the hunt in the swamp, and Anthony had gone into the ambulance with Lauren. He’d held her hand the whole way, but she hadn’t known. Her eyes had only opened when the ambulance pulled into the emergency area at the hospital, and then the EMTs had pushed him back so that they could get her out.

He hadn’t been pushed far. With every step that the EMTs had taken, Anthony had remained close. Fear still twisted his guts, and he wasn’t sure if the tight knot would ever go away.

“I’ll have a marshal watching me,” Lauren said, her voice a strained whisper. “What more do I need?”

The doctor frowned at Anthony. “She’s got a grade-two concussion, so when I say watched, I mean I want you in the same room with her at all times. If her pain gets worse, if her speech starts to slur, if she has seizures, you rush her back here right away.”

Anthony nodded.

The doctor exhaled as she removed her gloves. “I’ll give you a sheet with warning signs, but I don’t like this.”

“I don’t like this either.” Lauren’s voice was hoarse. It was breaking the heart he’d tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Lauren was lying on the hospital bed, a thin gown over her. Her clothing had been taken and bagged as evidence. Voyt and his crime scene guys were going over the cabin, and Anthony was hoping the dogs and their handlers from the K-9 unit ran down Walker.

As much as he wanted to join that hunt, his priorities had shifted.

To her.

“One of the cops is supposed to be bringing you some more clothes,” Anthony murmured as the doctor slipped from the room.

Lauren wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was staring straight up at the bright lights overhead.

He edged closer to her. Took her hand.

She flinched.

“Lauren, it’s all right. He’s not going to get you again.”

She laughed. He’d never heard such a brittle sound come from Lauren. “He said he would. Told me he’d be back.” Her tongue slid over her lips. “He said…” Her words trailed away.

Anthony’s fingers tightened around hers. “I don’t give a shit what he said. He’s not going to hurt you.”

Her gaze came to him. There were tears in her eyes.

Something broke inside of him.

“He hurt Jenny.”

Anthony frowned. He didn’t remember a victim named Jenny in Walker’s file.